


light it up and watch it all drop down

by notthebigspoon



Series: Stick 'Em Up [12]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's sunny out, beautiful, and there's a nice breeze blowing. Ryan closes his eyes and turns his face up to the sun. It's a good day for baseball. </p><p>Title taken from Sick by Adelita's Way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light it up and watch it all drop down

It's sunny out, beautiful, and there's a nice breeze blowing. Ryan closes his eyes and turns his face up to the sun. It's a good day for baseball. An arm closes around his shoulders and Ryan leans back into a broad chest. It's not Brandon, too tall for that. He peers up and snorts when he sees Huff, shaking his head, patting his arm.

“You really like pissing him off, don't you, big guy?”

“Just keeping Stamos in check.” Huff answers with a grin. “Kid's gotta learn to appreciate you. Knowing you have options will help.”

“No, you just like fucking with his head.”

“Guilty.”

It's okay, Ryan doesn't mind it. Huff is one of the few guys on the team that hasn't gone around handling him with kid gloves. There's the frequent ass smacks and the smacks upside the head. Which occasionally spawn a headache or make him go throw up but still, he's being treated normally. He mocks Ryan's issues in general mercilessly. It makes Brandon angry and makes their teammates fidget, awkward, like they don't know whether it's okay to laugh or not. He doesn't think anything of the flirting. Anyone with half a brain knows Huff only has eyes for Burrell.

He carefully twists out of Huff's arms when he feels himself getting sick again, leaning over with his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath, breathing out through his nose. It passes after a little while and when he straightens up, Huff is gone. Ryan frowns and looks around, gnawing on his lip. He sees Huff talking to Brandon and Brandon nods. He heads onto the field, where Ryan had been stretching, with a cup in one hand. His other hand is closed into a fist.

When he reaches Ryan, he hands him the cup of water and drops a pill into his hand. Ryan eyes it. His phenergan. He hates those things, they make him so sleepy, but sleepy is better than feeling like he wants to throw up every twenty minutes. Plus he doesn't think the Padres grounds crew would appreciate him killing their grass. And he really doesn't think his teammates would appreciate him hurling into the dugout trash cans. Ryan takes the pill and washes it down with the whole cup of water.

Brandon gives him a small smile, squeezing his shoulder. “Better?”

“Will be.”

“S'okay baby. I'd wanna hurl with Huff touching up on me too.”

“Haha. Funny.” Ryan mutters, rubbing his eyes. He hands the cup back to Brandon, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I don't need this right now. Things were getting better. I haven't been forgetting as much. The headaches haven't been as bad. But then the fucking nausea comes back and... it's not fair. I just. I hoped I'd at least get to come back for one game. Just one, because what if I can't play again?”

Brandon doesn't answer. It's okay, Ryan didn't expect him to. His boyfriend has been supportive every step of the way, moving him in and taking care of him, taking him to doctor appointments, letting him vent his frustration by screaming and breaking things, holding him when he'd break down crying because this shit is terrifying and he doesn't know how to cope with the potential loss of his career. But Brandon doesn't have words, that's Jalynne's department. She's the one who always talks him down but she's somewhere up in the stands with some of the other wives and girlfriends.

It's time to clear the field and he shuffles into the dugout with Brandon, keeping his head down and leaning in close enough that their shoulders touch every now and then. He wonders what he'll do if this is the end. He's always been careful with his money, he doesn't live extravagantly or flamboyantly like some of the younger guys or the big shots do. He won't be hurting for cash even with child support payments to make and Johnnah fucking around had screwed her out of any shots at alimony. He could go back to school. He doesn't know what else he'd do. He doesn't have the normalest of job histories.

Brandon's up in the lineup today and before he takes the field, he leans into Ryan. He grips Ryan's arm, brushing his thumb over the silver and leather bracelet he and Jalynne had given Ryan as an 'official' move in present. The card had read 'Thank you for shacking up with us. We love you and we'll never let you go.' Ryan had laughed so hard he'd cried.

“Even if you don't play again, it doesn't change anything. You're ours. You're part of us. We're not just with you because we want to date a hot shot baseball player. Alright?”

He's up and moving, jogging onto the field before Ryan can say anything else. Ryan stares after him and grazes his fingers over his arm. He can feel the phantom sensation of Brandon's hand, warm and strong and tingling. He fidgets with the bracelet, turns it on his wrist, a new found nervous tic. He doesn't understand it, how and why they believe that strongly in him. Why they want him enough to keep him when he's damaged goods. But he's grateful that they do.

Through the game, it's like the conversation didn't happen and everyone pretends that Ryan hadn't thrown up in the clubhouse and hadn't been about to throw up during warmup. Huff hugs him and smacks his ass and smirks at every seething look that Brandon sends their way. Ryan idly wonders if Burrell hates him, Ryan, as much as Brandon sometimes dislikes Huff for touching Ryan so much. 

It's the bottom of the ninth and the Padres are trying to play catch up but Ryan gets the feeling that they're dead in the water. Ryan isn't paying attention anymore. His attention span isn't great anymore and honestly, the lover's quarrel going on between Lincecum and Posey a few feet away is more interesting anyway. He hears the crack of the bat, people screaming and sees his teammates starting to scramble. That's the last thing he sees before he's struck in the side of the head, vision going black as he tumbles off of the bench. The pain is blinding. He doesn't move.

It's quiet. He thinks he hears people talking but he's not sure. It's all muddled and distorted, like being underwater. People are touching him, his eyes are pushed open and a light shines into them. He feels the world start coming back to him. Groeschner is talking to him, Ryan can see his lips moving, but he doesn't really understand it. He starts to look around but it makes his head hurt too much and he closes his eyes with a moan of pain.

He can feel them putting him on the stretcher, listens to the snatches of what people are saying to him. He manages a grin when Huff calls him an attention whore and that if he wanted people to notice him, there were easier ways to do it. He opens his eyes when he feels fingers lacing through his own. Brandon is staring at him, ghost pale and tears in his eyes. He tries to speak, more than once, before shaking his head and quickly kissing Ryan's hand.

The last thing Ryan sees before they carry him out is Brandon's face buried in Huff's shoulder, shaking as he cries.


End file.
